


Soldier and Healer

by devilinthedetails



Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Affection, F/M, Family, Forgiveness, Friendship, Gen, Grief, Guilt, Magic, Sickness, Trebond, blame, hints of romance, odd couple, references to death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-24 02:07:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17695574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilinthedetails/pseuds/devilinthedetails
Summary: Coram, Maude, and the odd couple they create over their years together in Trebond.





	Soldier and Healer

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Peculiar Pairings Bingo Event at Goldenlake. Set before the first Alanna book.

Soldier and Healer

Childhood Confidences

“I’m leaving to train as a healer.” Ten-year-old Maude felt beads of sweat like a gemstone-studded headband (a luxury she would never wear) on her brow as she stood, rucksack digging into her shoulder blades, in the forge Coram’s family had owned for generations. Her father, the tanner, was a craftsman who wasn’t expected to toil in his lord’s fields like most of the village’s peasants, but still she was able to fit everything she cared about in the world–except, of course, for her home and the people she loved–into a single rucksack. It had been an uncomfortable realization when she packed in the loft she shared with her siblings last night. 

“Ye mean train as a witch.” Coram pounded at the metal he was forging into a horseshoe with an anvil. He had been her childhood friend since she could remember–they had spent Maude’s entire life in houses next to each other–but her magic spooked him worse than vengeful ghosts. 

“I mean train as a healer,” Maude insisted, hands on her hips at his attitude that all mages were evil. 

“It’s good that ye get to do what ye dream of doin’.” Coram continued to hit the medal with his anvil. “I want to become a soldier and see the world, not remain a blacksmith stuck in Trebond like my father, but there aren’t any wars for me to fight in. King Baird just lets Maren, Tusaine, and Galla nip bites out of our land. It’ll be different when Prince Jasson comes to the throne, though, ye’ll see. He’s conquered Barzun, and he’s not even king yet. When he’s king, I’ll be able to march off to war.” 

“The edge of the village is far enough for me.” Maude shivered despite the blazing heat of the forge at the idea of leaving the only home she had ever known. 

“The edge of the village isn’t that far.” Coram’s snort somehow took away Maude’s fear of the unknown. “We’ll still see each other all the time.” 

“Less talk and more pounding, boy,” snapped Coram’s father before Maude could reply. 

“I’d better leave you to your work. I’ll see you again soon,” Maude said swiftly to Coram, adjusting her rucksack and hurrying out of the forge before the village blacksmith could take his fury out on her. Coram’s father was famous for a temper as hot as the flames in his smithy. Humming to herself, she meandered down the dirty village lane to the tiny cottage on the outskirts where she would train with the only healer near Trebond castle. 

Protection and Favors

Five years later, Coram was preparing to march out with the rest of the young men King Jasson had levied from Trebond to fight Tusaine for control over the Drell. Maude had never seen the Drell–had never seen a body of water that wasn’t Lake Trebond or the mountain streams that fed into it, for that matter–but she couldn’t imagine that it was worth so many men, especially her dear Coram, bleeding and dying for, but Coram felt differently. Coram was willing to bleed and die for anything that offered him an excuse to leave Trebond and have an adventure. 

“You think marching off to war makes you a hero.” Maude nudged Coram in accusation. 

“Marchin’ off to war doesn’t make me a hero.” Coram tugged at her braid by way of revenge. “It just gives me a chance to be a hero. If I do something brave and noble like save someone’s life, then I’ll be a hero.” 

“You’re a village boy from Trebond.” Maude’s words were soft despite her eye roll. “Nobody will ever know your name even if you become a hero.” 

“I don’t care if they know my name.” Coram shrugged. “As long as I know I’m a hero, that’ll make me happy with my life.” 

“I thought you would say that.” Maude sighed and slipped an amulet she had labored over for weeks between his fingers. “Take this. It’s filled with all the herbs and charms I know to keep you safe on the battlefield.” 

“It’s vile sorcery ye mean.” Coram scowled at the amulet tucked between his fingers. 

“It’s protection. It’s a favor.” Something inside Maude’s soul screamed for her to kiss Coram before he marched off to fight for a river she couldn’t even imagine, so she brushed her lips across his cheek rough with stubble. “It’s a kindness.” 

“Thank ye for the kindness then.” Coram relented, placing the amulet around his neck and yanking at her braid again before he disappeared into the ranks of soldiers, leaving her with the twin fears that he would die alone on a bloody battlefield and that he would never know that she thought she might love him as more than a friend. 

Shared Grief

“I can’t believe that Lady Marinie died, and that it’s my fault.” Maude curled against Coram’s broad chest, weeping into his strong shoulder with the intimacy of long friendship.

“It’s not your fault.” Coram pressed a kiss into the furrows of her forehead. “Lord Alan called you too late to save her.” 

“A more powerful healer could have saved her.” Maude closed her eyes, seeing again the blame with which Lord Alan had glared at her after his wife had died in childbirth. “My own teacher could have saved her.” 

That was Maude’s greatest guilt and grief–that her mentor, who had passed away only last year, could have saved Lady Marinie, but she couldn’t. Her Gift was too weak. 

“Nobody–not even yer teacher–could have prevented Lady Marinie from dyin’ when the Black God was callin’ her so.” Coram’s fingers brushed beneath the dark bags under her eyes, wiping away her tears before they could trickle down her cheeks.

“Then why did Lord Alan look at me with such blame when he heard of her death?” Maude fretted with her handkerchief, soul aching with the certainty her lord would never forgive her for her failure, and worse still, she would never absolve herself. 

“Lord Alan’s mad with grief for his lost wife,” Coram whispered, breath tickling the shell of her ear. Coram had to be careful what criticism he offered of Lord Alan now that his heroism at the Battle of Joyous Forest had secured him a place as the head of Trebond’s men-at-arms. “He blames everyone and everything magical for his wife’s death, but that don’t make him right, lass.”

“Look at you.” Maude’s lips twisted into a shaky attempt at a grin. “Trying to be rational instead of scared senseless about magic for once. Will the wonders never cease?”

“Magic may scare me senseless, but I’ll have ye know that there’s a difference between that and blamin’ magic for everythin’ wrong.” Coram tweaked her nose. “I saw enough of death in the war to know it don’t all come from magic.”

Burning Fever

“If they survive the night, there’s hope the fever might break, and they’ll live to a ripe old age to die in their sleep,” Maude rasped to Coram, her cracking dry tone alerting her to how much her throat craved water. Ignoring her thirst, she tucked a blanket tighter under Alanna’s chin though the room was hot as the fever they were trying to burn out of the twins Lady Marinie had died bringing into the world. 

“They might not survive the night then?” Coram’s gaze fixed on a candle slowly burning out on the nightstand beside Thom’s red head. 

“You were wise to summon me at once when you felt the fevers in their foreheads.” Maude didn’t answer his question or tell him that the twins might be lifeless and cold as stone now if he hadn’t called her as soon as the twins had sickened because she had to keep the flame of hope in both their chests alive. 

Under other circumstances, Coram might have made a quip about how rare it was for her to praise his wisdom, but now he stood somberly silent, hovering over the twins as they lay sweating and swathed in blankets as if he could shield them from a deadly fever with his sharp sword. 

Odd Couple

“You’re so affectionate with them,” Maude commented to Coram, glancing up from the net she was weaving to hang over Thom’s bed to ward off the nightmares that plagued the lad’s sleep as Coram joined her on the bench in Trebond’s courtyard that rang with the blows of wooden practice swords as Alanna pressed Thom into a retreat. 

“I have to be,” grunted Coram, watching the surety with which Alanna swung her wooden sword with a glimmer of gruff approval. “I’m the only father they really have–no insult to Lord Alan intended, of course. Just as ye are the only mother they’ll ever have.” 

“We’re an odd couple.” Maude rested her net on her lap and entwined her fingers through Coram’s, feeling the forever unspoken affection pulse between them like blood in veins. “But we’re the only parents these twins we’ll ever know.” 

“It’s our responsibility to bring them up the best we know how.” Coram nodded grimly and gave her hand a single squeeze before releasing it.


End file.
